This story is going in a non-chronological order. I considered putting it up as a separate story all together but then figured that this is more convenient.
Disclaimer: I do not own SGA or any of the characters.
At the moment she cannot remember a time when she did not feel like this. A time when she did not want to crawl out of her skin, when her mind was not racing, when her body was not screaming. Teyla knows she can end it, she knows what to do to put her mind and body at ease. She knows what to do to make the world make sense again. To make it so it is not a struggle to just be.
Her heart is pounding and her palms are sweating and her body shakes. She wants it to stop. To just end.
She knows who. She knows how.
And so she does.
It takes half an hour or so to take effect but then the shaking ceases and her mind is at ease and she feels powerful and invulnerable.
She can do anything.
But eventually. Eventually it wears off and she cannot remember feeling normal.
She cannot remember how it was to be in control of her life.
She knows who. She knows how.
She raises her finger to the doorbell and stops just before she reaches it. She turns to go. The door opens.
"Teyla?"
And then she breaks. "John," she moves towards him and circles her arms around him and he holds her awkwardly as she cries. "Please. Please, find a way to make this end." A permanent end.
The rage hits her first. She's screaming at him, telling him to let her go, just let her go get what it is that she needs.
John allows her to yell to scream to cry. It becomes physical. Even though the drug is wearing off, he is still not strong enough to control her. There is a brief moment of pain as he wrestles her arms behind her back and then metal slaps around her wrists. Eventually she allows herself to slump to the floor, all the while cognizant that John is watching her closely.
She is vaguely aware of being carried out the door and she begins to struggle.
"Shh," John says, "Just relax."
All she knows is she does not want anyone else to see her like this and she moves, trying to get away.
"Teyla, listen to me," John has set her down in his driveway and is kneeling next to her, holding her up. "I'm not going to watch you die, got it? I have to take you to the hospital."
"No," she says, "No."
John sighs. "Shit." Then he leans his head against hers. "Okay. I'm going to make a call."
She recognizes the Scottish accent. "What's going on then?"
Beckett. She can trust Beckett.
She hears John say something about withdrawals. Soon she does not hear anything at all.
There is darkness and only darkness. And then she slowly becomes aware of the soft sheets that she is lying on and the light that filters through the cracked door.
"John?" It comes out as no more than a whisper.
"Sorry, love, just me." There is movement next to her. "I'm going to turn the lamp on, alright?"
"Yes."
She squints her eyes as her world is illuminated once more. Beckett gently picks up her hand, fingers against her wrist to check her pulse. "You're very lucky, you know that?"
She is lucky. She is lucky that she has someone like John in her life. "I know."
"It's going to be rough for awhile."
She knows that, too.